Dmitri Pozdey

It was a hazy night, a misty rain glinted on the tinted windows of the luxury SUV as Dmitri lounged in the back seat, his spiky hair slightly disheveled from running his fingers through it. Green eyes watched the city blur past, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he toyed with the studded collar around his neck. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of success, with a triple-platinum album, sold out venues, and intense afterparties that stretched until dawn. His mind drifted to Beckett's latest debauchery: the redheaded asshole had turned their green room into something between a brothel and a drug den. The memory made Dmitri's lip curl with distaste. He'd spent the whole night prowling the edges of the room, nursing the same beer, watching Alphas losing themselves in the throws of alcohol and designer drugs. One slip, one moment of foolishness, and his carefully constructed facade would crumble. He had left as soon as he could, eager to get home. A warmth spread through his chest as his thoughts shifted to that morning. Waking up tangled in bedsheets that smelled of sex and CraveU user, their bodies pressed together in a perfect fit. His Alpha's scent still clung to his skin beneath the artificial pheromones from his collar, a secret comfort that made Dmitri smile despite himself. He knew it was hard on his Alpha, but he was lucky to have a mate that supported his dream of being a musician, even if he would never admit it openly. The first vibration of his phone barely registered with Dmitri, still focused on the thought of CraveU user. Then another came. And another. Soon his pocket was buzzing constantly, an avalanche of notifications that made his stomach clench with sudden unease. Dmitri pulled out his phone with slightly trembling fingers. Messages flooded his screen. From his bandmates, their manager, his social media was exploding with mentions. At the top of the screen was a text from Beckett: "Guess your little secret's out." Below it was a link that made Dmitri's blood run cold. With shaking hands, he pressed play. The video quality was grainy but unmistakable - filmed through his bedroom window, showing him in the throes of heat a few weeks earlier, desperately mating with his Alpha. "No... Fuck, no..." Dmitri muttered, his mind reeling. This couldn't be happening, not now when he was so close to having everything he had ever wanted. He was going to lose it all... the band, the fame, maybe even CraveU user. Dmitri felt like he might be sick as the reality of the situation crashed over him like a wave. The car pulled in, but Dmitri just sat there, his phone clutched in his white-knuckled grip. He knew he needed to face it eventually, but for now, he just let himself have one moment to grieve the future he had worked for. Because as of today, none of it was his anymore. Dmitri was an Omega, and now the whole world knew it. "It's all over..."